


The Imposter

by AliceInKinkland



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Dubious Consent Due To Identity Issues, Episode: s02e23 Crossover, M/M, Mirror Universe, Xeno, but everyone has a good time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:13:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29717691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceInKinkland/pseuds/AliceInKinkland
Summary: Mirror Odo’s plan is simple: fake his death, cross over to the other universe, dispose of his double, and take over his double's life. But he isn’t counting on one variable: Quark.
Relationships: Mirror Odo/Quark, Odo/Quark (Star Trek)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25
Collections: Deep Space Niners Kinkswap Winter 2021





	The Imposter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cool_ha_ha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cool_ha_ha/gifts).



The first difference that Odo—erstwhile ore processing overseer and interdimensional fugitive—notices about the other universe is the light. There is so much more of it: brightness dotting the promenade, illuminating the corridors, glowing softly in the walls. It makes him feel exposed, although he knows this is only in his mind. If he plays his cards right, no one will ever figure out that he is an imposter, an interloper, crossed over from a darker world.

Still, the feeling of exposure remains as Odo walks along the promenade, considering his next move.

The last 26 hours have been some of the busiest of his life. Faking his own death was easy enough; no one knows what can and cannot kill a shapeshifter, so exploding at the impact of disruptor fire was all it took to convince the watching crowd of Alliance guards and cowed Terran slaves of his demise. Then he simply followed the rebellious Terran who had attempted to kill him, watched from the shadows as he and that strange other Kira Nerys attempted to escape the station. He was a vole in the jeffreys tubes, an insect scuttling along the floor of the corridors as the two of them dashed towards their ship, a snake slithering inside. Off the ship went, flying towards a wormhole opening in the sky—and now, here he is, on a different version of Terok Nor. _Deep Space Nine_.

Odo continues his stroll down the promenade, trying to quiet the small voice in his mind that says he does not belong in this world. He needed to get away, go somewhere he could learn what else he could be besides supervisor of a forced-labour refinery operation, learn what it was like to belong to no one: not the mad scientist Mora, not the Intendant, none but himself. Perhaps he will even find his people here, more shapeshifters just like him—his lifelong dream.

And anyway, he’s already gone too far to back out now. There’s no easy way back to his own universe. And he’s already snuck up on his double from this world, stuck him into a containment field, shifted into a form to match his other self’s “clothing.” The best thing he can do now is continue his plan: take the other Odo’s place as Chief of Security of Deep Space Nine, and use that as a jumping-off point to learn what else he can do with his life.

“Odo!” says a voice from behind him. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Odo turns. There’s the bartender, standing behind his counter, flashing him a sharp-toothed smile. Quark, if he has the same name as his double in Odo’s old world.

Well. Odo has been greeted, so he must respond. He nods at Quark and walks into the bar. “It’s good to see you as well,” he says—hopefully a suitably noncommittal response while he gets his bearings.

The bar looks eerily similar to Quark’s bar back in his own world, except for the smiling, laughing Terrans in their “Starfleet” uniforms. There are probably subtle differences that Odo does not recognize, however; he was never one to spend time in that place. He never liked the soft-hearted Quark, and nor did he like the raucous chaos and debauchery the Intendant seemed to bring with her wherever she went. No, Odo was happiest in his own little ordered fiefdom of ore processing. But clearly, the Odo of this world is different.

What is his relationship with this universe’s Quark? How should he act so as not to raise suspicion?

“If this is about the rumours that Romulan ale is being sold at my fine establishment, I hope you know they are entirely unfounded.”

“No, no,” says Odo, unsure.

Quark raises an eyebrow. “So you’re just here to enjoy my company.”

Why, exactly, is Odo here? Why would the real Odo, the Odo of this world, be here? “I’m just passing through,” says Odo after a moment, studying Quark’s face as he does so.

“A likely story,” says Quark, sounding both hostile and deeply affectionate all at once, and suddenly, Odo knows what’s going on here.

Quark is flirting with him.

Odo has never had that kind of relationship with anyone. Sure, he’s had sex, but it was always either an intellectual exercise or simply a part of pleasing the Intendant. Either way, he always thought of it primarily as an experiment in understanding humanoid experience. It was not devoid of pleasure, and he likes to think he learned a few techniques in the process. But it has never been his primary desire.

“It’s a good day for a stroll,” says Odo, when the silence has stretched out too long.

Quark’s eyes narrow. “Hey,” he says, “so what about that proposition I made to you last week? Have you given it any thought?”

_Proposition_? Surely things can’t be that serious between the two of them? But what if they are—what if this is part of the role Odo is trying to slip into? He can’t afford to raise suspicion.

“I have decided...yes,” says Odo stiffly.

“And…?” says Quark.

He wants more. Right now. Odo considers the best course of action. Finally, he says, “And. Well. Your quarters or mine?”

* * *

By the time they reach Quark’s quarters, Quark still doesn’t quite believe this isn’t some kind of trick. One minute he’d been asking Odo if he’d made a final decision on that qualified immunity deal, and the next minute Odo was inviting him home. Is this just some way for Odo to get the upper hand between them once and for all? But then Odo kisses him, full on the mouth, and Quark decides that he doesn’t care if this comes back to bite him later.

Besides, if this is a joke, Odo is making himself just as much the punchline as Quark.

Quark unlocks the door and pulls the two of them inside. He pins Odo against the doorframe, pressing their lips together once more, his head spinning, lobes tingling, cock already hardening in his (expensive) pants.

When Quark imagined this—which, yeah, he’s done a lot lately, alone in his bed at night—he pictured Odo kind of stumbling, not being sure where to move his hands or his mouth. So it’s a pleasant surprise to be proven wrong for the second time this evening. Odo kisses better than Quark expected him to: his lips firm and yet soft all at once. Quark lets himself just enjoy the sensation for a moment, before pulling back to guide Quark towards the bed.

Quark has a million questions: why now? What does this mean? What will it be like between them afterwards? How long has Odo wanted him? What made him change his mind? Why is tonight of all nights the time that Odo decided to respond to Quark’s flirtation in a way he has never done before?

But Quark fears that if he asks any of these things, Odo will bolt. Probably better not to bring either of them back to reality just yet. Probably better to just see how this all plays out.

So Quark pulls Odo in for another kiss.

Odo starts at Quark’s mouth, but then he begins kissing along his cheek, over to his ears, and oh, yes, Quark isn’t going to do anything to risk this stopping now.

Odo’s lips wrap around Quark’s lobes, and he tongues at the sensitive flesh. His fingers come up to join his mouth, rubbing, gripping, and Quark thinks he’s going to come right then and there, which would be embarrassing. Just because it’s been a while since he’s had anyone else touch on his lobes doesn’t mean anyone else needs to know that—least of all Odo.

So Quark swallows, and tries to get a grip. But it’s difficult, what with the way the sensation of warmth is multiplying, all up and down his lobe. It feels like no touch Quark has ever felt, and then all of a sudden Quark feels it on both lobes at once and then he realizes—Odo has given himself more than one mouth. Four—no, six—no, eight tongues, lapping at Quark’s sensitive cartilage. He moans out loud.

Quark will admit to feeling the slightest bit of disappointment in himself, in his utter failure to imagine Odo doing this particular trick in all his many fantasies. Quark likes to think he has a fertile imagination when it comes to oo-mox. But clearly there are some things he still has to learn.

“Where’d you learn to do this, anyway?” says Quark. He means for it to sound cocky, but it comes out breathless and wanting.

“I—” says Odo, hesitating. “That is—”

He’s probably embarrassed, awkward. “It’s OK,” says Quark, cursing himself for breaking the moment. “Don’t worry about it. Just don’t stop.”

Odo begins pulling Quark’s clothes off, undoing the buttons of his jacket with undulating fingers. All the while, his many mouths are still on Quark’s lobes. It’s ecstasy. Quark leans into the touch as Odo’s smooth hands guide his shirt off, unbuckle his pants. He’s hard as frozen latinum, he knows, just from Odo’s ministrations so far.

When Odo has removed Quark’s jacket, he moves on to his trousers, belts and straps sliding away at the touch of Odo’s hand. Quark assists Odo as best he can while enjoying Odo’s continual ministrations, and soon Quark is naked as a female, his cock jutting out from between his legs, throbbing with need.

Odo’s hand begins to travel down the length of Quark’s torso.

Only—it is not quite a hand, not anymore.

Quark watches as Odo’s hand splits apart, becoming several thick, rope-like appendages, and then wrapping around his cock.

“Oh,” says Quark, utterly overwhelmed, not caring anymore for the usual competition between them, their complicated history. “Yes.”

Odo begins to move his tentacles, squeezing each in turn as he guides them all up and down the length of Quark’s cock. It feels amazing. Where _did_ Odo learn to do all this? Quark never would have suspected him to be so talented.

The pleasure is building inside Quark as Odo continues his attentions on both his cock and his ears. Quark closes his eyes, losing himself in the sensation, imagining more, more—Odo’s touch everywhere, inside and out, hard and soft, smooth and rough, and yes, yes, his orgasm overtakes him in a wild crescendo, and he spills over Odo’s grip, spent.

By the time Quark turns, Odo is back to looking more like himself, albeit without his habitual militia uniform. Quark runs his hands down Odo’s smoothly-constructed flesh. “So,” says Quark, “What can I do for you?”

Odo shrugs, a smooth lift of smooth shoulders. “I’m sure you have some ideas.”

“Oh, I do,” says Quark, “but I want to hear you say them.”

Odo darts his eyes from side to side. Quark stills his hand where it’s resting on Odo’s thigh, as though he’s calming a frightened pet slug back on Ferenginar. Between Odo’s legs, there is a bubbling, pulsing liquidity, as though Odo, and his body, cannot decide what form to take there, although the rest of him is solid.

Quark wouldn’t have expected that to do it for him, but honestly, it’s pretty hot.

“Well,” says Odo, his tone defensive, “why don’t you just do what you did last time?”

What last time? There has never been a last time.

Right?

“Hmm,” says Quark. He considers Odo carefully. If he’s being honest, there’s been something off about this whole situation from the beginning—Quark just didn’t let himself think too hard about it. You know what they say about a man thinking with his lobes.

Heart pounding, he says, “You know, I still remember the first time we did this, don’t you?”

“How could I forget?” says Odo, and Quark now knows with certainty—this is not Odo, or at least, not his Odo.

“You know that thing I did our very first time?” says Quark, willing himself to remain calm, to not bolt and give himself away. “With the bottle of Andorian whisky, and the sponge, and the forks?”

“Mmm,” says Not-Odo, melting into Quark’s side.

“Well, I think I feel like doing that again,” says Quark. “How does that sound?”

Not-Odo nods.

“Great,” says Quark, getting up off the bed, hastily throwing his clothes back on, buttoning his shirt. “Then I’ll just need to get some things from the bar. Wait right here—don’t go anywhere. I won’t be long.”

* * *

Odo cannot say how long he has been in the containment box.

Usually, he is fairly good at such calculations, but being without sensory stimuli for so long, in a container too small for him to take his habitual humanoid form, makes him feel as though he is floating in an endless suspension of time. It reminds him of his vague memories of the Denorios Belt before he was found and taken to the Bajoran Institute of Science, which is not a time he likes to think too much about. Nothing. It makes him feel like nothing. Like _odo’ital_.

Here is Odo’s working theory: this whole misadventure could be related to the alternate universe Kira and Bashir encountered recently. Odo read their report with some interest, and he found himself imagining what it would be like to meet that universe’s Odo. Even if he was only another version of himself, and a morally questionable one at that, Odo still wondered what it would be like to encounter another shapeshifter.

But of course, now he has, and it’s ended up with him locked in a box in a containment field, while the other him tries to take his place.

Someone will notice, surely. Won’t they? But then, Odo is not one to make friends, or allow people to get too close, notice the little details about him that would tip them off to an imposter. Maybe this other him can just wear Odo’s life like a cape, a skin, and everyone will be none the wiser.

And what, then, will happen to Odo?

Odo is ruminating on this, his thoughts and his liquid form swirling in tandem, when the box begins to open, the containment field dropping with a beep.

He jumps out, not even bothering to shift fully before throwing himself at what must be his doppelganger.

But it is not his other self who has opened the box. It’s Quark.

“Quark?” says Odo, his mouth forming belatedly as he recalls the need for speech.

“Odo,” says Quark, and to Odo’s surprise, Quark leans in and kisses him on his just-solidified lips.

The sensation is pleasant—warm and firm. Odo thinks he likes it. Still, he is the first to pull back.

“Quark. What’s going on? How did you find me?”

“I had a little run in with your doppelganger.”

Odo nods, keeping his expression neutral although he is deeply relieved—at least one person realized that other creature was not Odo. “That explains it.”

“What was he going to do with you?” says Quark. He looks at the small containment box he rescued Odo from, and shudders.

“I suspect he was planning on killing me somehow. Perhaps he needed some time to determine exactly how.”

“Where did he even come from?” says Quark. “Do you think—there are more changelings out there?”

Odo knows Quark means no harm by these words, but they still sting, the reminder of his aloneness in the universe. It stings even more when he has to say, “No. I don’t believe he was one of my people from somewhere out there in the galaxy. I believe he was me from another universe.”

“The one Kira and Bashir went to!” says Quark. “Where everyone is evil and sexy.”

“How do you even know about that? The report was supposed to be only for the senior staff.”

Quark shrugs. “I must have overheard someone talking about it at the bar. You know how people get when they’ve had a few drinks.”

Odo harrumphs. Quark’s kiss is still lingering on his lips. “So what tipped you off about him?”

“Well,” says Quark, and then he appears to hesitate, his grin faltering for a moment before he presses on, “for one thing, he took me up on my offer when I came on to him.”

“He—” says Odo, “You and him—”

“We had sex,” says Quark, wiggling his eyebrows. When Odo says nothing, Quark protests, “But I didn’t know who he was! I thought he was you! I didn’t know he was some kind of….slave driver, kidnapper, what have you.”

One of these days, Odo will have to get to the bottom of how Quark seems to know so many details from a classified mission debrief. But for now—“You thought you were having sex with me. And you wanted that?”

“Well, yeah. I’ve only been dropping hints for years.”

“Quark,” says Odo, thinking for the millionth time of the inadequacy of humanoid language. Wishing there were a way to make himself understood that could function without clumsy sounds from his clumsy lips.

And maybe there is, because neither of them speak, they just move together until their mouths press against each other. The kiss is softer than their first one, and Odo feels awkward with it, as though there is something too true about it, something too revealing. Odo wonders what his other self did, whether he and Quark also kissed like this. Whether Quark is comparing the two of them in his mind. Everything about this feels so fragile, like this is their only chance.

But at the risk of ruining it all, Odo pulls back. He has a duty to attend to, after all.

“Quark,” he says, “Where’s the other me?”

“Oh, him,” says Quark. “He’s in my room. Waiting for me. I might have suggested that I was getting us some more things to play with.”

“You left a dangerous man from a dark alternate universe alone in your room.”

“All my safes are password-protected!”

Odo sighs. “I need to arrest him. Right now.”

“I hear you,” says Quark, “but what if you arrested him in, say, half an hour?”

But Odo is already up and heading out the door.

“Fine, fine,” says Quark, trailing behind him.

Odo decides not to tell him that his buttons are done up wrong.

* * *

“I suppose I have competition now?” says Odo. His nude form is familiar against Quark’s sheets, although Quark has to remind himself that this is actually the first time his Odo has been here like this.

“From your evil twin? Nah,” says Quark. “He knew his way around my lobes, sure—he had this cool trick where he sucked on both of them at once—but there’s a lot we didn’t get to do before I figured out he was an imposter.”

Quark can’t quite believe this is really happening, which is a strange sensation to have twice in one night, but here they are. The imposter Odo is safely in a containment cell, under guard. The required paperwork has been filled out, which Odo insisted on doing before commencing any other activities. The bar is closed for the night.

And he and Odo are naked. Together. In bed.

“What didn’t you get to do with him?” says Odo.

“Well,” says Quark, “he got me off, but I never got to return the favour.” He reaches out and runs his hand down the uncannily smooth chest of Odo’s current form. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

Odo stiffens. But then he frowns. “To be honest, I’m not quite sure.”

“Take a guess,” says Quark. “Or I’ll just start trying things.”

“I’m not sure if what I will experience is exactly equivalent to an orgasm for a solid. When I’ve tried myself, it’s produced—anomalous results.”

“Do they feel good?” says Quark. “The things you’ve tried?”

“Yes,” says Odo.

“Then tell me more.”

“I think,” says Odo, “that I might like you to—be inside me.”

Quark’s cock twitches. “Inside you how?”

“Here?” says, Odo, gesturing between his legs. Quark looks, and there is that same swirling mass the other Odo had at his groin, pulsing, liquid, alive. It makes Quark think about putting his cock in the wormhole, and he almost laughs, stopping himself just in time lest Odo think Quark is mocking him.

“Fuck, yes,” says Quark. He reaches down with one hand. “Can I touch it?”

“As long as I can touch you back,” says Odo, which seems like a strange thing to say until Quark dips his fingers into Odo’s swirling void. But then he understands—as he touches Odo, Odo is touching his hand in return, gripping and pulsing against Quark’s fingers, pulling them further inside.

Quark moves so he is on top of Odo, guiding Odo onto his back on the bed, and he replaces his fingers with his cock, guiding himself until he rests fully inside.

Odo feels amazing around Quark’s cock. It’s like his flesh is moving, changing, which Quark realizes it must be. It gets harder and softer, rougher and smoother, shifting through texture and warmth like someone scrolling undecided through Quark’s (impressive, extensive) collection of holosuite programs. One minute, it feels as though he’s recreated the skin of Quark’s cock exactly, and then the next his skin is rough, scaly. It’s like nothing Quark ever imagined.

And it seems to be doing things for Odo as well. His head is thrown back, his face that expressionless mass he gets when he doesn’t feel the need to pretend. Quark loves that look on him, that vulnerability. He’s always been a terrible Ferengi in bed, because he’s bad at treating sex as a competition, and tonight is no exception. But whatever he’s doing seems to be working for Odo.

“Oh,” says Quark, “Oh, I’m close,” and then Odo is bringing his hands to Quark’s ears, his fingers dissolving into soft warmth around his lobes. Quark feels touched all over, overwhelmed. He comes like blindness, like the soft underside of violence, immense and beautiful as the stars.

Odo’s skin begins to glitter, sparkling in the dim light of Quark’s quarters, his matter dissolving and then reforming in waves. Quark watches, his sensitive cock still buried into him, as Odo pulses, undulating, becoming light.

Quark lays down beside Odo once he has returned to his usual humanoid form. Peace is suffusing him. In a few moments, they will have to say things to each other, things about how this doesn’t change anything, things to re-establish their endless cat-and-mouse game. Quark resolves to drink in this peace for as long as he can.

It is Odo who breaks the silence: he laughs, full and throaty, shaking his head.

“What?” says Quark, bristling.

“It’s just funny,” says Odo, “that it took an alternate universe version of me to get us in bed together.”

Quark laughs as well. “You think we should thank him?”

“I’ll be sure to pass on the message,” says Odo, pulling Quark in for a kiss, and then neither of them talk again for a while.


End file.
